


An Oath That We Can Keep

by estelraca



Series: An Oath That We Can Keep [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:23:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29658906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/pseuds/estelraca
Summary: When Beau is injured on the battlefield, Yasha spends some time considering which would be more painful--stopping the relationship now, or potentially losing another love of her life.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Series: An Oath That We Can Keep [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2180166
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14
Collections: Purimgifts 2021





	An Oath That We Can Keep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enkelimagnus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/gifts).



> Happy Purim! I hope you enjoy this. I love these two and their dynamic.

The sword slices cleanly into Beau's stomach, entering just below the ribs and exiting between her spine and her left kidney.

It could be worse. Beau is aware of her body, knows every little nook and cranny of it. She knows that she can keep fighting even with this wound. It's not the first time she's been skewered, after all. It's not even the _worst_ time she's been skewered. She will never forget the way Yasha's eyes looked as the sword plunged down into her chest—never forget the tears and helplessness, both of them unable to stop the cascading sequence of events.

They've moved past it. Beau _thinks_ they've moved past it, at least. Her hand connects with the head of the monstrosity that she's engaged with—not quite a troll, not quite a moorbounder, some terrible amalgam of both.

“Wizards need to stop making creepy shit like this!” Beau plants her staff in the middle of the creature's face, knocking it backward.

“We don't know for _sure_ it was a wizard.” Jester's voice is cheerful, her lollipop continuing to pound the skeleton that had skewered Beau into the dirt.

“Of course it was a wizard!” Beau darts a glance at Yasha, smiling at her girlfriend. _Her girlfriend_. It feels too good to be true, still. That they survived. That they moved on. That they have each other, and that they _kiss_ each other, and that... mmm, Beau is looking forward to when they finish this mission and can get back to all the other things they do. “Yasha, what else can you think of that could create something like this?”

“I... don't know?” Yasha's words are hesitant, but her sword arm isn't. Her biceps tense and relax, a beautiful slide of muscle beneath her tattooed skin. “Something else magical?”

“There's lots of magical beings out there!” Jester swings her hand, and her spiritual weapon slices through another horde of skeletons. “It could be something divine, or something new.”

“No. No more of that.” Beau continues to land blows on her own opponent, forcing the creature back. “We have already seen enough shit that shouldn't—”

The wizard comes out of nowhere. One moment there's nothing in the shadows; the next there's a man reaching for her chest.

Beau tries to slide out of the way, but between the monster and the man she finds herself pinned down. Fingers graze the skin of her abdomen, and cold leeches along the injuries the skeleton gave her, freezing her from the inside out.

She lunges forward, bringing her skull against the wizard's with a resounding _thwack_. Blood gushes from the man's nose and he staggers back, stunned.

Beauregard grins. Just a little more and—

She doesn't see whatever it is that stabs the sword through her chest from behind, but she has to give them credit for good aim. Left ventricle, right atrium—no more heart.

She's unconscious before she hits the floor, Yasha's scream echoing in her ears, an eerie echo of earlier times.

***

Again.

It's happening again.

Rage pounds through Yasha's veins, hot and wild, and she lets it loose. They've already done a number on the wizard's creatures. Beau had practically cowed the big troll-moorbounder into submission before the wizard stepped out, and Jester has been making creative piles of skeletons with her spiritual weapon.

Beau stunned the wizard. Yasha knows because the man doesn't even try to focus his eyes on her as she charges up, instead standing daze, blood flowing down from his nose like a gory fountain.

Yasha makes it gorier very quickly.

He hurt Beau. He's responsible for these _monstrosities_ that they're fighting and he hurt Beau. She doesn't even try to curb or direct the rage, just letting it loose, slicing and crushing and _crunching_ under her boot until—

“He's dead! He's dead, Yasha.” Jester's voice finally penetrates the haze of grief and rage. “And I need your help, because Beau's not, but I can't—I need your help. Please.”

Yasha turns away from the man's corpse, not even bothering to spit on him. She kneels on the other side of Beau from Jester.

There are tear tracks down Jester's face, and Jester wipes at them with the back of one bloody hand. “I got her breathing again. I brought her back. But I'm close to tapped. Can you—”

Yasha lays her hand on Beau's chest. Light flares—still so strange to see, so beautiful and unexpected. All magic is beautiful, even when it shouldn't be.

Beau opens her eyes with a groan, reaching up to trap Yasha's hand against her chest. “Ow. Did anyone see the bastard who hit me?”

Jester wipes at her eyes again, smearing her own and Beau's blood across her cheeks. “You can see the remains when you feel well enough to sit up. You don't think Yasha was going to let anyone hurt you and get away with it?”

“No.” Beau looks at her, eyes bright and open, and then lunges up, her hands gripping Yasha's armor and holding on tight. “I know better than to think that.”

Beau brings their lips together like a challenge, but Yasha gentles the kiss almost immediately. She doesn't want a challenge. Not right now. Not after seeing—

Not now. She can't go through it again. She can't lose her home and her heart again. There just won't be anything left of her to salvage, though she knows that the Nein would try. The Nein always try to take care of their own, even when the wounds that haunt them are older than the friendships they're using to try to save each other.

They're all safe. They've defeated the enemy, and now they can rest and heal.

Now she can sit here and watch the steady rise and fall of Beau's chest; she can rest here, her hand against Beau's sternum, feeling the steady beat of Beau's heart.

So long as she can feel that, there's still a chance for everything to be all right going forward.


End file.
